The Enigmas: A Far cry x PMD Story
by pokemariofan64
Summary: On his way to an ocean resort, Martyn Atkins encounters a storm that separates him from his friends, and leaves him stranded on a strange island called Roseland by its inhabitants. Searching for his friends, he finds himself in the middle of a war for the island, and part of a recurring prophecy that labels him a threat to the current regime.
1. Prologue

**AN: This is my first story sitting in the writer's seat on here, so go a little easy, alright?**

It had been just under an hour since takeoff, and already Martyn, Clyde, and Joel were more than excited about their fast-approaching destination. They were on their way to a small island resort they'd won a trip to courtesy of Clyde, who'd been dared into buying a lottery ticket just for the hell of it one dull day. So far, the trip had been long, but enjoyable. Martyn and his pals had flown into Honolulu in luxury, then it was onto Guam, where they'd spent the previous night. That morning, the three had packed their bags, grabbed some last-minute essentials, and scrambled aboard the resort's private helicopter for the final leg of their journey.

From there on out, it had been all smiles. As the resort loomed closer and closer, the three friends joked and talked amongst each other, discussing the luxurious vacation to come. "I'm telling you, guys" Martyn said, "When we get there, the minibar is ALL MINE". Clyde chuckled and replied, "If you're just gonna up and call dibs right now, then you're asking for a fight, buddy". "Your funeral." Martyn shot back, "You wanna take this right now?". He stood up, jokingly making fists with his hands, trying and failing to hold back laughs.

"Come on, guys." Joel spoke up, trying to calm the two down, "There'll be plenty of time to fight when we get there. More drinks, please." Clyde got up, brought over another bottle of alcohol, and poured some more into their glasses. "Guys," Martyn spoke again, signalling for silence, "Right now, I just want to propose a toast. Here's to the best vacation ever!". The three friends gleefully knocked their glasses together. "I'll drink to that." said Clyde. Then the whole cabin was lit up in a flash of lightning.

At that moment, the helicopter intercom turned on. "This is your captain speaking," said the voice from the other side, as the ride began to get noticeably bumpier, "We appear to have entered a storm system and are experiencing some unexpected turbulence. Kindly fasten your seatbelts until we are clear of the system. Thank you." Peeking out the window, there were only dark clouds specked with lightning as far as Martyn could see. "Holy shi-" was all he managed to say, cut off as another bolt of lightning grazed the helicopter. Joel grabbed onto Martyn and looked him in the face. "The hell, Marty?" he asked, a hint of exasperation in his voice, "Get strapped in, you got a death wish or something?". Tightening his seatbelt, Martyn closed his eyes and hung on for dear life, listening as Clyde yelped in terror at another close strike.

More bolts lashed out from all around at the helicopter, which tried fruitlessly to outmaneuver them. Yet another bolt struck its tail, cracking it and sending it crashing into the cabin, where it tore a large hole in the fuselage. Now exposed to the outside, everything not nailed down was blown out the open window and into the storm.

The three friends covered themselves the best they could as bottles, cushions, and the helicopter's cart flew at them and out the window. Martyn made the grave mistake of opening his eyes and noticed cracks on the floor below him. He realised immediately that the helicopter, now in a tailspin, was beginning to disintegrate. And then, Martyn found he was being pulled out the window too. He leapt from his seat, just as it was pulled away into the tempest. Clyde and Joel quickly grabbed his hands, but their grip wasn't firm. "Don't let go, just a little longer buddy!" Clyde said, trying to steady his grip. "We got you, man!" Joel said reassuringly.

As another bolt of lightning struck the helicopter, Martyn's grip began to loosen. "I can't do it guys; I can't hold on. I'm slipping, I'M SLIPPING!". Martyn slipped out of his friend's hands, and Clyde yelling "No!'' was the last thing he heard before everything faded into the sounds of the storm, the helicopter stalling as it spiraled through the sky, and the rushing wind of his fall. Then everything went completely black.

* * *

When Martyn awoke, he was first astounded to find he was not dead. He had no idea how, but he'd survived not just the crash, but the god-knows-how-high fall out of the helicopter, too. However, for some strange reason, he was rather dry, despite just being in a storm, one over the ocean no less. He also seemed to be in the dark, although his eyes were clearly open. Just as he thought this, however, the entire room was lit up in a multicolored light. Martyn opened his mouth to talk, but another voice, one that seemed to come from all around him, interrupted him before he could say anything. "Hello. Do not be alarmed." it said calmly. Martyn was shocked. "Wha-? Where am I? And what about my friends? Are they…?"

"I know not what happened to your friends, but there is still a chance they may still be alive." The voice answered reassuringly, "But that is not of importance right now. I need you to do something simple for me". "And what would that be?" Martyn asked. The voice responded with infinite calm; "I want you… to answer some questions". Martin was bewildered, but also somewhat relieved at this response. He was quiet for a long time. "Oh ... uh, well… ask away then, I guess.'' he eventually gathered the nerve to say. "Well then, seems we're all ready to begin.'' the voice answered, pleased. "First question..."

* * *

An unknown amount of time later, the voice's questions ended. "I think that will be it." it told Martyn, "Now, be patient. I must determine what your answers mean". Martyn was alone for a minute or two, spending his time lying on the floor, staring in awe at the multicolor sky above him. Suddenly, it turned a bright green. "Hmmmm…'' the voice said, surprising Martyn with its return "You seem to be a bit of the sassy type. You're a bit of a troublemaker and rather argumentative." Martyn stared up at the green sky and nodded silently. "Many may consider you to be irritable, even cynical, but those few who enjoy your company do so immensely!"

"Well, that sounds about right." Martyn said, somewhat humbly, as the voice finished. "Yes, it would seem so." it responded back. "This means the ideal form for you is that of… a Riolu!" Martyn was baffled. "Ideal form? Riolu? What are you talking about?" Before he could say anything else, however, he became aware of a rumbling resonating from beneath him. "It's time. Destiny awaits, Martyn." he heard the same voice saying, as the green sky faded to black, "Good luck, stay calm, and remain vigilant. You've got a lot ahead of you!" Martyn felt the floor below him vanish, and as he fell into the darkness, he blacked out once again.

**And that's the prologue. First chapter is already out, so go check that out if you feel like it.**


	2. Chapter 1: Welcome to Roseland

**AN: The bases for this story will mainly be PSMD, as well as Far Cry 3 and 4, small bits of 5 too. This is NOT, however, going to completely be a plot-retelling fic. Original elements will be introduced and expanded upon as the story progresses. **

Chapter 1: Welcome to Roseland

Martyn opened his eyes, oddly relieved to find himself on solid ground. He could feel the warm sun beating down on his back, and hear a dull crashing of water nearby. He opened his eyes, blinked a few times as he got used to the light, and looked around. He appeared to be in a rather hilly forest. 'What is this place?', he thought to himself. It was about now he realised he couldn't remember much about how he'd wound up here. In fact, wracking his brain, he found he could only clearly recall a few things. His memory was pretty much limited to who he was and a couple of scattered memories, most perilous, the clearest of which were faces he could only recognise as friends.

Suddenly, Martyn's thoughts were interrupted by a dizzying thirst he had just now become aware of. "Damn, I'm parched." he said quietly. Not too far away, he knew there was some sort of water source from the crashing he'd heard when he came to. He tried to get to his feet, but found himself unable to. Sighing, he turned himself around and began slowly crawling his way to the source of the crashing he'd heard. There, at the source of the sound, was a waterfall surrounded by a small pool of water. Martyn stood there and observed it in silence for a few seconds, hearing nothing but its deafening roar, and his slow, shaky breathing.

Eventually, he mustered the strength to push himself to the water's edge, and quenched his thirst in large gulps. When his thirst dissipated, he pushed himself away and sighed. Well, that's one thing out of the way, he thought, now to determine where the heck I am. Looking back at the water, he could see his reflection. He leaned over towards the still waters to look, just to make sure he wasn't injured or anything. The reflection he found, however, was not something he expected. The person staring back at him bore a striking resemblance to him, but there were some huge differences.

For one, the reflection had darker, almost black hair, and bright red eyes. On its head was a blue beanie with goggles, and on its body a blue, tan and black jacket and shirt. Martyn gave a shocked yell and leapt back from the water in surprise. Lying on the grass, he realised for the first time since awakening that something was different about him. Looking down, Martyn noticed was wearing the same jacket as the unfamiliar figure in the water, along with jeans, sneakers, and fingerless gloves. Reality finally setting in, he pushed himself back towards the water to confirm his worst suspicion. Yep, this was what he looked like now. "WHAT THE HELL? THIS ISN'T RIGHT! SOMEONE, HELP ME!" he began to yell, going into a bit of a panic at this sudden change.

* * *

Eventually, Martyn managed to calm himself down enough to stop panicking. He was taking a rest under a tree, coming to terms with his changed body, when a different sense of wrong suddenly came over him. Although he couldn't see or hear anyone around, something inside him sensed that there was a group of people heading towards him. A voice suddenly spoke, from what seemed like right next to Martyn, "Pretty sure he fell somewhere around here. He can't have gone far". Martyn wheeled around to try and determine the source of the voice, but was met only with the quiet clearing. It seemed the strangeness would only continue to pile up.

At that moment, however, five people wearing tan overcoats and helmets that obscured most of their faces emerged from the forest, wielding pistols and SMGs. They looked up the hill and quickly spotted Martyn, who had no time to hide. One of the individuals at the front of the group put his hand to his ear and said "We've got him. Attempting peaceful contact. '' The person, along with the rest of the strange group, then started up the hill towards Martyn. Reaching the top, the man, who Martyn had now determined to be this group's leader, began to speak.

"Civilian, by order of Captain Farley and the Roseland Armed Regiment, we demand that you come with us immediately. Refusal to comply will not be tolerated".

Martyn was confused. He couldn't understand why this man and his assailants, who had also reached the top of the hill now, had such an interest in him. Sighing, he decided to get this over with as quickly as possible. "I, uh, think you have the wrong person. I have no clue about anything you're talking about. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to find out where the hell I am.'' It seemed, however, that the leader of the group clearly wasn't going to take no for an answer. As he turned to leave, the leader pulled a pistol from his hip, and Martyn froze.

"Don't try and play dumb with us, kid. You were tracked extensively during your fall. This sort of thing hasn't happened in years, and it's always a bad sign".

At this point, Martyn, growing tired of these people and all their inexplicable reasoning, turned to the leader once more, and said, "I'm telling you; you've got the wrong guy. Far as I know, I just woke up here without my friends, and I'm very worried about them. I don't need the likes of you getting in my way. Beat it." Martyn turned to walk away when the leader spoke again, "Civilian, get back here im-"

What happened next was, for lack of a better word, unexpected. Martyn, somehow sensing that the commander was aiming his gun, intent on shooting him, whirled around to face him. He angrily pointed to the soldiers, and shouted "I SAID BEAT IT!" Suddenly, a blast of telekinetic force originating from Martyn's direction swept the commander and two of the soldiers off their feet. The remaining two opened fire on him, and Martyn, rapidly realising his mistake, fled into the deep forest. As he ran, he heard the rapidly fading voice of the commander bark an order to give chase.

* * *

As he fled further into the woods, Martyn could hear the soldiers in pursuit behind him, and they only seemed to be closing in. "Keep up the pressure! He can't run forever!" one his mysterious pursuers shouted from behind him. Tripping over a root, he stumbled into a clearing. He was out of breath now, from all the running he'd just done. He figured his best option was to hide, but he needed to find a good spot, and fast. Almost not thinking, Martyn climbed into some nearby bushes, hoping he'd made the right choice.

The soldier's footsteps grew closer and closer until, from his hiding place, Martyn saw two of them emerge into the clearing. One of them pointed over to his part of the clearing. "You search that side. We'll find him faster if we split up." The other soldier moved towards Martyn, and began searching the clearing's perimeter. Martyn nervously watched him, until he moved out of the field of view the bushes provided. Leaning in to try and get a better view, he scraped his arm against a branch, and yelped in pain.

Covering his wound, Martyn realised he had nowhere to run when the soldier on his side locked eyes with him. He grabbed Martyn and harshly pulled him out onto his knees, calling his comrade over and pulling out his gun. "Found the little runner." he explained as he came forward, equally satisfied at the capture. "Now then, let's show this little shit what happens when you try and outrun Calico's finest!" Martyn closed his eyes as the soldier aimed his gun at his face, when suddenly a loud bang echoed across the clearing. Opening his eyes, Martyn saw his would-be executioner standing still and emotionless, bleeding from his head.

As he fell to the ground, the other soldier fired into part of the forest, until suddenly a figure clutching an old rifle came charging into the clearing and struck him, knocking him out cold. Martyn slowly watched quaking as it stopped, turned around, and slowly walked back towards the first soldier, nudging him with its rifle, seemingly just to be sure he wasn't getting up. Then, the figure dropped it and turned to Martyn. As it approached, all Martyn could do was say a few timid 'no's as it crouched down in front of him. However, that same odd feeling he got when he sensed the soldiers approaching him for the first time returned out of the blue, and it seemed to be telling him that the figure meant him no harm. Up close now, Martyn could see him much clearer.

He was male, and in his mid 50s from what he could tell. His appearance was quite rugged, with his light brown hair somewhat greyed and unkempt. He had the slightest shadow of a beard on his face, and a strange, confident look in his grey eyes. He was wearing an open camo jacket with a grey shirt underneath. His appearance gave Martyn a very 'washed-up action hero' kind of vibe. "You alright, kid?" the man asked. Martyn was still too stunned to answer. Nevertheless, he continued, "You're damn lucky I decided all the noise you were making running around out here was something worth investigating".

"Th-thanks?" was all Martyn could stammer out.

The man offered Martyn his hand, and pulled him to his feet. "Name's Neil," he explained, as they shook hands, "Neil Hirsch". "Martyn Atkins." he replied, returning the shake. Having properly introduced himself, the man's attention was now drawn back to the clearing. "We need to get out of here. If there were more guys chasing you, they probably heard all that racket I just made". Sure enough, at that moment, the remaining three soldiers emerged from the other side of the clearing. The commander looked around, noticing two of his downed men, and then Martyn and his rescuer. "WHAT IS THIS?", he yelled. Neil took off into the woods, Martyn shortly following as the soldiers opened fire and continued pursuit.

After a minute or two of running, Neil and Martyn were forced to a halt upon finding an obstacle in their path, in the form of a large cliff overlooking a river. "Dammit!" Neil yelled. "What is it?" Martyn asked in response. "I thought I knew this place well. Guess my memory's gotten rusty since I've been gone." He gazed down at the river below, "We'll have to jump". "Uh, no way pal." Martyn said, shaking his head, "You're crazy if you even think I'm even okay with this". "Yes, I suppose I could always turn you in to those elites and hope they don't shoot me." Neil responded coldly, "Brace yourself". Before Martyn could react, his rescuer pushed him over the edge and into the water before following himself. As he screamed the whole way down, Martyn caught a glimpse of what he thought was Neil smiling. Then he blacked out. Again.

* * *

Martyn came to a few seconds later, on dry land, oddly enough. He turned over to see Neil sitting by him with his rifle a little ways away. Seemed he'd pulled him to shore while he was unconscious. "Good." his rescuer said, getting up, "It would've pretty disappointing if you'd just died back there. Woulda been a whole lot of work for nothing". Climbing back to his feet, Martyn gazed back downstream towards the cliff. "I think they've called off the search." Neil reassured him. He pointed to a smaller hill in the opposite direction, on which was a small cabin. "We'll head over there and get the lay of the land". Martyn nodded, seemingly having come to terms with the situation now. On the inside, however, his mind was struggling to keep up with all the events that were concurrently unfolding and provide the right emotional reactions for them.

As they walked up to the cabin, Martyn figured he could try and get some clarity about his predicament from his rescuer. It seemed Neil had the same idea, as, before Martyn could open his mouth, he turned around to ask him, "Why were those elite guys chasing you anyway? You musta done something real nasty to get them to pursue you all the way into these parts". Martyn ground to a halt, his mind struggling to make up a believable lie. There was no way he'd buy what had really happened to him, so he'd have to think something up quick. "I'm… a fugitive." He managed to stammer out. Neil scoffed. "Really? What for?" Martyn paused for a second, a jolt of panic passing through his body. "Uh, why would I tell you?" He answered half-confidently. Neil just laughed. "Relax. So long as it hurt Calico, it's fine by me."

"Calico?" Martyn asked.

Neil was taken aback at Martyn's lack of knowledge of local affairs, but nonetheless began to explain as the two arrived at the cabin. "Leon Calico. He's Roseland's 'benevolent ruler', as he likes to say." Martyn was about to ask him what the hell a Roseland was, but Neil quickly answered this question too. "Roseland's where we are, by the way. You sure you're from around here?" Martyn was searching desperately for an answer to that question when, as they crested the hill, his and Neil's attention were drawn to a dilapidated industrial building a short distance away. Turning to Neil, Martyn noticed he looked quite concerned with this view. "Dammit," he said, turning to Martyn, "Looks like we're in Billy the Infinite's territory".

"I suppose he's no good either?" Martyn asked. Neil just nodded slightly, eyes still on the factory. "He leads the local militia. Really, though, they're just crooks. Doesn't claim to be on either side, but he's been eating out of Calico's hand for a while now." He pointed to the abandoned factory in front of them. "That's his base of operations.'' "Sounds like we oughta avoid this guy." Martyn suggested. "I wish it was that simple." Neil replied, motioning towards a heavily fortified path that lead to the factory, "Thing is, you can't just go around Billy, not without turning up dead. If you want to survive, you gotta go through him". He walked over to a nearby stump, in which a machete was embedded, and pulled it out. "Here." he said, handing it to a very shocked Martyn.

"I…" Martyn stammered out after a short silence, "...I won't have to kill anyone, will I?" Neil merely shrugged, "Hopefully not. We'll sneak in the back of the factory and try to get out the front without being detected. If we reach the road undetected, we'll be alright". He walked a few steps down the hill, but turned back to add, "Still, things could go wrong. Keep that machete close.'' Martyn stood there, looking over the blade in his hands. "How are things only getting worse with him?" he asked himself aloud. Then, with a touch of reluctance, he gripped the handle firmly and followed Neil down the hill, towards Billy's base of operations.

* * *

Martyn felt like he was in the army, the way Neil was treating him. He and his rescuer moved down the path from cover to cover, with him being ordered this way and that like a conscript. Now, they were slowly crawling along the gravel of the path, which was thankfully clear for the time being. Suddenly, Neil called him off the path, climbing to his feet and running towards the factory. Martyn quickly got up and ran after him, almost cutting himself on his machete in the process. He noticed his rescuer was heading towards a staircase that led up to a door on an otherwise unremarkable part of the building.

"We'll see if it's unlocked, and try to get through as quietly as possible" Neil explained to Martyn, the two of them leaning against either side of the doorway. Neil, who was on the handle's edge, slowly reached an arm out and pulled it. The door slowly opened, giving a quiet creaking as it did. "Get in, and close it behind you. Quietly." Neil ordered him, stepping inside. Martyn nodded, stepping into the building alongside him, then slowly closing the door, shrouding them in darkness. As his eyes got used to the darkness, he noticed Neil heading down a hallway to his left and followed him, crouching down and following the lead of his rescuer. Approaching a corner, they stopped, and the older of the pair peeked his head out from the wall, and uttered a "Crap".

"What is it?" Martyn whispered. "There's someone there," Neil responded, motioning around the corner, "Take a look". Martyn peeked at the room ahead of them and, sure enough, there was someone in dark red fatigues in there, a female a little younger than Martyn. She was lying on a chair, clearly asleep. "I can take care of this; watch and learn, kid." Neil said, pushing past him and around the corner. Martyn could only look on as Neil produced a small green blade, seemingly carved from wood, from within his jacket and tossed it in the direction of the sleeping figure. Quietly, it struck her fatally in the neck, and she keeled over undramatically in the chair.

Neil turned to face Martyn, who was still shocked at the brutality of it all. He sighed. "It's a warzone kid, sometimes you have to get your hands dirty. Let's go." The two of them walked past the body of the woman, whose outfit bore symbols Neil pointed out as those of Billy's gang. They moved towards the next room, but Neil, sensing danger, immediately pushed Martyn to the other side of the doorway. Peeking around it, Martyn could see the problem. Two more of Billy's men were in the next room, one guarding the room with a bat as the other casually leaned in a corner, whistling. "We'll both have to take one. Hope that machete's ready." Neil said, pointing to the blade in Martyn's hands. "But I can't just kill someone!" Martyn complained. "You can, and you will." Neil retorted, "You take the one with the bat".

* * *

Reluctantly, Martyn adjusted his grip and looked over at Neil, waiting for the signal to attack. His rescuer put his hand up, and silently counted down from 3. Then, they both emerged from their cover and charged the thugs. Martyn all but crashed into the man with the bat, his machete slashing into him somewhat. Recovering from the hit, he swung his bat at Martyn, but he dodged, and another blow with the hilt dislodged the weapon from his hands. Martyn tackled him to the ground, and trying his best not to look directly at the guard, he slashed inconsiderately at his opponent's body until he was sure he wouldn't get up again.

Martyn slowly put away his machete and fell to the floor, laying down and thinking about what he'd just done. Getting up, he saw Neil nearby, who was already dusting himself off, having made short work of the other guard. "First time, huh?" he asked. "I suppose so." Martyn numbly stated. Neil nodded understandingly. "Yeah, the first one is always the hardest." Just then, however, the door opened, and another large group of people in dark red, wearing improvised armor as well as hard hats and bicycle helmets, burst into the room, immediately catching sight of Neil and Martyn.

The apparent leader of the squad, an older man wearing glasses and a combat beret, cried out "INTRUDERS!", producing a revolver from his holster. He hardly got a shot off before Neil had pulled out his rifle and fired back, then knocked him to the ground with its stock. Martyn saw some of this before he dived behind a couch for cover. He noticed, at his feet, the bat of the guard he'd killed nearby, and picked it up. Peeking out from behind the couch, he noticed a knife-wielding thug sizing up Neil. He tossed the bat with all his might and it found its mark, knocking his foe to the ground, out cold. Pulling out his machete, he leapt over the couch and at a third gangster, striking him directly in the chest. The remaining two thugs fled back down the hallway, likely to warn the rest of the base about their presence.

With the two having a little time to breathe now, Neil looked around, then noticed something about the man with glasses that shocked him. "Martyn?" he asked him. "Yeah?" Martyn responded. "If I'm not mistaken, this is Billy's lieutenant." "What's that mean?" he asked Neil. "It means our situation just got ten times worse. We need to get a move on, before they start searching the place". Martyn nodded, getting up and heading toward the door, but Neil stopped him. He reached down to the lieutenant's body, grabbed his pistol, and handed it to Martyn. "You should probably take this." he said. Martyn silently accepted his offer, then opened the door and broke into a run.

The duo rushed out of the room, and into another hallway. The floor was covered with the detritus of several years of decay and gangster inhabitation, but it was still firm enough to run on without falling through. Turning a corner, they all but ran into a small search party investigating what had happened to their lieutenant. "THERE THEY ARE!" someone in the group yelled, and the duo quickly turned around and fled back the way they came. Martyn, in front, noticed someone standing in front of a railing anticipating their approach, a strong-looking person with a pistol who fired a few shots in Martyn's direction. Martyn ducked down, avoiding the bullets, and struck his assailant with such force that, surprisingly, he flew completely over the railing and onto the factory floor below.

He spent a few seconds in awe, pondering how he could have possibly supplied that much force in a punch. Then, suddenly, he felt metal being pressed against his head. He turned around to find the same small group of people in red helmets he had just run into. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a weary Neil being disarmed by a red-haired man who had clearly made short work of him. After taking his weapons, he turned back to the rest of the group. "I guess I'm next-in-command." He said, "Let's take these intruders back to Billy and let him sort them out".

At that order, one of the taller members of the group walked up to Martyn and Neil, placing his hands on both their heads "You're so dead when Billy gets his hands on you." He said in a scarily casual tone. Then, he concentrated for a sec, and the two felt a huge pulse of electricity going through both their heads. Then, for seemingly the hundredth time, it all went black.

* * *

When Martyn regained consciousness, he could immediately feel that he was being restrained. Sure enough, when he opened his eyes, he found that he was tied to a chair, rope immobilizing his arms and legs. Turning to his right, he found Neil sitting next to him in a similar position. The two exchanged silent grimaces, before Martyn shifted his attention to the room around them. They were clearly in the heart of Billy's base, a room that seemed to have been a former foundry. At the center of the room hung a large industrial ladle full of molten metal that gave off a large amount of heat and light, in fact it was the main source of light in the massive room. All around them, groups of scarlet-clad thugs leaned over guardrails and watched out of windows on all sides of the room, many jeering and taunting the duo, proclaiming their oncoming death.

Eventually, the crowd gradually began to quiet down, and every thug's head slowly turned upwards towards the ceiling of the foundry. Instinctively, Martyn and Neil looked up too. Far above them, just below the ceiling, was a catwalk, and walking along the underside of it seemed to be a figure. As it slowly stepped into the light of the ladle, the thugs erupted into cheers. "Billy! It's Billy! He's here!" They proclaimed, hailing their leader as he looked down on his subjects and prisoners from his perch. The self-proclaimed militia leader suddenly shot a device on his arm into the ceiling below him, and slowly but surely began to propel himself downwards towards his captives, on a wire, Martyn noticed as he came close. As Billy, hanging upside down from the ceiling, stared down the two of them, Martyn was able to get a good look at his captor.

He was a lot younger than what he'd expected, not seeming to be much older than 20. He was clean-shaven, although his face bore the scars and bruises of many an altercation that made him look a lot older than he was. His hair was bright red, and concentrated in spiky clumps that almost looked sharp enough to injure. The look in his eyes was almost but not entirely insane, which to Martyn made it even worse. He had no clue how many people this man had killed, but considering his hardened, menacing gaze, it was undoubtedly a lot. He was clad in clothes that were not unlike what the rest of his gang wore, but they were somewhat more elegant, and more heavily armored.

"Well then," their captor spoke in a voice that sounded juvenile, but was worded quite maturely, "So you two are the troublemakers that killed my lieutenant, among other things". He turned himself right-side up, firmly on the ground now, and walked over towards Neil. "Neil Hirsch, Roseland's greatest bounty hunter. It's an honor to meet you again." Billy said, leaning over him. Neil sighed. "Hey, Billy." He said, somewhat exasperated. Billy simply shook his head, tutting, "I'm disappointed in you, Neil. It's times like these that I can hardly believe that once you were the pride of this militia". Neil snapped back, "Yeah, because that was the only job I could hold down after Calico took power. I only wish I'd woken up sooner and realised what I was a part of". Billy chuckled. "Oh, Neil, you and your obsession with 'freedom', as you falsely describe it. It's completely lead you astray. You've disgraced your honor, as well as mine and that of all the Incarnates before me". "I don't think there's much honor to be had in terrorizing the populace into obedience." Neil responded.

Billy simply scoffed at this, as his attention was turned to Martyn. "And who may this accomplice of yours be?" He mused, turning to Neil, "Have you got yourself an understudy, Neil? Finally admitting you're getting too old for this shit?" Neil shot back, "Shut up. I found him wandering around lost in the forest and was bringing him to town. I've never seen him before in my life". Billy smiled at this. "Then I suppose you won't be so sad if I did THIS!" The thug produced a battered hunting knife from a holster on his side, and licked it. Holding it up to the light for his subjects to see, Martyn noticed the knife was covered in a purple liquid, presumably his spit. Billy leaned in on him, and held the knife to his neck. "Don't worry," He said chillingly, "It'll only be excruciating". Neil struggled, trying to escape his chair, while Martyn shuddered as he anticipated his death. But just then, a thug burst through a door above them and ran out onto a catwalk, holding a portable radio and a cable. "Billy!" He said, "There's something you need to hear".

The militia leader sighed, pulling the knife away from Martyn's neck. "Can it wait? I'm in the middle of something here". The radio thug shook his head. "I'm afraid not. This is seriously important.'' He connected the cable with the portable radio, and a voice echoed across the foundry through the old PA system. The captor and his subjects and captives, all listened with equal concern as a voice that sounded familiar to Martyn spoke from all around them:

* * *

_"... I repeat, this is Sergeant Besson of the RAR Special Forces, with a message to all RAR soldiers and militiamen in the Graelend area. At around 0815 hours this morning, an unknown object was tracked falling through the lower troposphere. Its landing site was triangulated in an area northwest of the town of Graenal. My squad was sent to the region to investigate the impact and was soon confronted by a confused individual who immediately attacked my squad, assisted by an assailant who managed to kill two of my men. We have reason to believe that one of these individuals is a Fallen, and that he is being assisted by a Roselandian native._

_The Fallen is a male in his 20s with black hair, and may be wearing a blue sweatshirt. His assistant is a male in his 50s, muscular with a short beard, and thought to be wearing a camo jacket and wielding a hunting rifle. They are suspected to be on the run somewhere in the Graelend region, potentially heading towards Graenal. Those intent on capturing them are advised to be aware of the separatist presence in the region, who may defend the Fallen in his evasion of authorities. However, there is a two-million-dollar reward to be given to anyone who can turn him in to any RAR outpost alive, with a supplemental 500-thousand-dollar reward for his assailant, living or dead. That is all"._

* * *

The radio was turned off with a click that echoed across the room. A heavy silence hung for a few moments, until it was finally interrupted by Billy, who had broken into a small laugh. He sighed, then turned back to Neil. "I suppose I was wrong, Neil.", he said, "It seems your loyalty to this militia never died after all." The thug king nuzzled Martyn's hair. "And this is the proof." To Martyn's surprise, Neil too smiled and began to laugh. "You know what? You're right! I planned this whole thing as a gesture to win back your trust. And it seems I completely succeeded. Now come over here, Billy. I need to tell you something".

Billy shot him a suspicious look, but reluctantly walked over to him. The thug could see Neil was up to something, moving his arms around behind his back, and he could swear he barely heard a noise that sounded like the cutting of ropes. Neil leaned in front his captor, at least as close as he could restrained like this. "I want you to thank your radio guy for me". "What? Why?" Billy responded, wracking his brain as he tried to plot Neil's next move.

"For buying me time."

With a snap as the ropes that bound his limbs fell away, Neil suddenly sprang forth from the chair, dragging it along with him, and struck Billy in the chest with it, smashing it into pieces. As the two stumbled back, Billy screamed "DON'T LET THEM ESCAPE!" before grappling upwards, out of harm's way. Neil got up and ran over to Martyn, rapidly undoing his ropes with his knife as Billy's thugs approached from all around them. Having had all his weapons taken from him, it seemed like the Fallen would be relying on his fists. Two thugs with bats charged him, and he swung for the one on the left. The first two punches to connect disarmed him, and the last one knocked him out cold to the ground.

Oddly enough, as he fought the first thug, Martyn noticed that fighting with his fists came oddly naturally to him, and that his mind felt a lot more focused engaging foes like this. He figured, that, since he was giving these thugs so much of a fight with only his fists, he should try and use them more often. He didn't have much more time to reflect on this, though, as at that moment the second thug attacked. Martyn was struck with a glancing blow, but managed to duck down to dodge the next swing, then grabbed the first thug's bat, exchanging strikes with his assailant, the sound of clanging metal against wood filling the air. A strike to the chest by Martyn disoriented the thug, and a blow to the head brought him down.

Elsewhere in the room, Neil had retrieved his rifle, and was taking out Billy's men with that and one of his blades. Above them all, Billy swung from the ceiling on his wire, shouting orders to attack from on high. "Billy, over here!" A female thug shouted from the stands, holding up a lever-action shotgun. She tossed it in Billy's direction, and he caught it. Using both his hands, he opened fire on the prisoners from below, covering his men.

Martyn turned to Neil's side of the battlefield, and noticed that he was completely pinned behind a pillar. The thugs had Neil surrounded, and were all but dogpiling onto him. Occasionally he'd lean out and take out one with his rifle or knife, but there was always one around to take their place. Looking around at the bodies of those he'd already dispatched, Martyn found another revolver. He looked back to Neil. He wasn't going to hold out much longer, and he had to do something. The thugs were perfectly fine with beating his rescuer up, but it seemed he was a little too important to get thrashed like Neil was. There, he had an advantage. He opened fire on the thugs, getting two or three, enough for Neil to make a push and take out the rest of the thugs in quick succession.

Billy scowled as he watched his captives begin to gain the upper hand. He swung forward and opened fire on the now vulnerable Neil, who dodged and fired back in response, managing to strike him in the leg. The leader of the thugs shouted in pain and clutched his leg, staring at his former prisoners with fury in his eyes. Cranking the shotgun's lever, he opened fire again, on Martyn this time, making him run for cover behind a metal beam. Neil followed him as Billy switched targets. "Right," Neil said, "Looks like it's gonna be him or us. We need a plan."

* * *

Martyn ducked as Billy swung around, trying to get off a good shot. His thugs began to surround them in a half-circle, eager to finish them off once their boss had weakened them enough. "You got any ideas?" He asked, turning to Neil. His rescuer looked him over for a second, thinking. "You are Riolu, right?" He asked. Martyn was confused. He could have sworn he'd heard someone calling him that before, but he wasn't sure where that was, or what it meant. But it must have been important if he was asking about it. "What's that mean?" He asked.

Neil sighed exasperatedly, dodging another shot as Billy swung around again. "You know how you're good with your fists?" Martyn quietly nodded. Neil handed him one of his wooden knives. "Take this, and throw it at his cable. That'll bring him down to our level". Martyn took the knife, looking somewhat concerned. "You sure this is gonna work?" He asked. Neil just smiled confidently, clutching his rifle. "Even if it doesn't, you should know I always have a backup plan". Martyn nodded understandingly, and looked out at the wall of thugs before him.

As time seemed to slow, he emerged from behind the beam and tossed the knife. As it spun through the air, Billy caught sight of Martyn out in the open, and prepared to fire. Just as he pulled the trigger, however, the knife embedded itself in the cable he was suspended from, jerking him back and sending him flying around the room, his shot missing completely. Every thug's view was now turned to their leader, uncharacteristically yelping in shock as he stumbled around in the air above them. As Neil emerged from behind the beam, Billy's fear turned to laughter as the thug king realised what had been seemingly harmlessly embedded in his cable. "Nice shot, kid," He said, turning to Martyn, "But it's hardly enough to kill me". Neil smirked, cycling his rifle. "You've got a point, Billy. Perhaps he needs an expert to demonstrate".

Right as his target was over the metal ladle, Neil fired at the cable suspending Billy in the air. Before the thug could react, he was falling, struggling to slow his descent. However, he was able to grab onto a rusty pipe just above the ladle, panting rapidly from shock and the heat radiating from below as he dangled precariously. As he looked up, though, a loud cracking noise began to echo around the foundry, and Billy realised too late that he had only broken his fall temporarily. As the beams supporting it began to fail, Billy uttered a rapid "nonononono!" before he was falling again, directly into the ladle. The thug burst into flames and exploded upon contact, sending molten metal flying everywhere. It was only fitting that Billy the Infinite would continue to lash out at his former prisoners, even in death.

Martyn and Neil ran for cover as the ladle violently ejected its contents. The late Billy's underlings fled from the eruption too, pushing and climbing over eachother to try and escape the blast zone. Many were struck by the metal, screaming as they burned if they weren't engulfed immediately by it. Martyn and Neil watched the chaos from behind a concrete pillar, as the surviving thugs managed to pull themselves to higher ground, or at least find cover to keep them from getting too burnt. After a minute or two, the ladle had emptied most of its contents, and now what was left inside was quietly churning away from the last of Billy's remains. Neil had held onto Martyn, trying to protect him during the most intense part of the eruption, and now slowly detached himself from the Fallen, emerging from behind the pillar and looking out at the great mess of cooling metal that now covered the foundry floor.

All around them, the crowds of thugs were fixated on the ladle where Billy had met his end. Many were vocally expressing their disbelief that he was dead, confident he would appear unharmed at any second. Neil looked down at the ground, noticing an unusual piece of debris amidst the disorder. It was Billy's grappling system, which had been blown off his person when he'd fallen into the ladle. It was charred, mangled, and still hot to the touch, but was still somewhat recognizable to Neil. "Seems we got a little souvenir." He said to himself, before looking over the crowd, holding up the former thug's trademark tool. "Right then," He said, "Anybody else wanna die?"

No thug said a word.

* * *

As Martyn traversed the main hallway that led to the outside, Neil at his side, the two flanked by many of Billy's former militiamen, he was busy trying to process everything that had happened in that building. How did a guy as nice as Neil once work for the militia they'd just disbanded, and what sort of acts had he committed while in their ranks? How did he manage a throw that accurate, even though he'd always had a pretty bad arm? And most importantly, what the hell was a Fallen, and why was that so damn important to everyone? As he considered this, the two finally emerged out of the old factory and back outside, the thugs slamming the door behind them. After a short silence, Neil gave a sigh. "Well then," He said, "Fine fucking mess we've got ourselves into". Martyn turned to look at him, confused. "What do you mean?" He asked, "I thought you'd be happy to do something that'd hurt Calico, I mean, you said-"

Martyn was cut off at that moment by a jab to the chest from Neil. He clutched his chest in agony, and stumbled to the ground. "It's not just because of that!" His rescuer shouted at him, "Thanks to you, I'm probably now the second most-wanted man in all of Roseland, right behind you!" Martyn opened his mouth to speak, only for Neil to continue his rant. "And come to think of it, that fact that Billy's dead makes it even worse! It means that Calico's gonna connect the dots between a Fallen running around and one of his militiamen dying in the same area, and they'll send the whole damn army after us!".

Martyn sighed. "Neil, I-" He immediately cut him off. "Why couldn't you have just told me the truth about who you were and saved me so much trouble? At least then I could've known to be a little careful with you!" A longer, more painful silence fell across the two. "Well? Speak up!" Neil eventually snapped at him. Martyn, still sitting on the ground, looked down. "Because…" He began to say, before stopping himself, taking a breath, and looking up at Neil, exasperation in his eyes.

"Because I wasn't exactly sure myself! All I was sure of when I woke up was that I was lost in a strange place without my friends, and that I didn't normally look like this! I lied to you because I was scared that you'd abandon or even kill me like those guys chasing me if I told you the truth! You seemed like you wanted to help, and I didn't want to risk losing you!" Neil looked down solemnly as he pondered what Martyn had just told him. He sighed, looking up again. "You got a point there, kid. And I suppose I shoulda known what I'd gotten into, seeing how you were being chased by elites and all. But I just couldn't stand seeing another person your age get beaten up by Calico's errand boys. I'm kinda stubborn like that. And my line of business doesn't allow you much room to catch feelings".

Neil squatted down in front of Martyn, looking around. "I suppose the best thing we can do right now is to head for the nearest town and inform the folks about you and our victory. Calico isn't going to take what we did today sitting down. He's going to want retaliation, and we need to get the people ready for it". He extended his hand to Martyn, offering him up. The Fallen took his hand, and Neil pulled him up off the ground. "I'm glad you understand, Neil." Martyn said, "Just one thing that's bugging me; I have no clue what a "Fallen" is, or why that makes me so dangerous!" Neil chuckled, walking down the road and motioning for him to follow. "My truck's a half hour's walk from here. When we get there, we can drive to Graenal, the nearest town. I'm sure I can bring you up to speed on the way". Martyn nodded. "Sounds good to me.'' He said, following his rescuer as they started down the winding dirt roads that criss-crossed this part of Graelend.

* * *

"So," Neil began to explain, walking along the side of the gravel road, Martyn by his side, "The thing about Roseland is that it sits directly underneath a portal or something between this world and another. We don't know much about it, who made it, how it works, how long it's been here. All we really know is that every few decades or so, it spits out a few people. Sometimes as many as thirty, sometimes as few as one. But all of them share the same sort of story. They're lost, they look different, and they are unusually good at fighting. Eventually we came to create a moniker for those that emerged from the portal and ended up here; the Fallen". Martyn nodded, taking this all in, as Neil paused for a moment to breathe, then continued.

"Generally, the Fallen usually arrive in times of civil strife, especially when one side is on the verge of victory. Usually, they're discovered and taken in by the losing side, and eventually manage to overturn the odds of their side and win the conflict for them. What happens after that varies. Sometimes, they take their place as the rulers of Roseland, sometimes they give up fighting and live among us. Most of the time, though, they vanish without a trace, and are never seen again". Martyn looked down. "Damn. You sure seem to know a lot about my type. How'd you learn so much about the Fallen?" Neil chuckled. "Well, I did my research. That, and I happened to know one personally".

"Wait," Martyn said, astonished, "You knew a Fallen before me?" Neil nodded. "Yep. It was a long time ago, though. Twenty-five or thirty years, at least. Back then Roseland was still a monarchy, and the king at that time cared little about his country. I was part of a group of rebels determined to overthrow him and install a democratic government in his place. A year or so into the conflict, though, things weren't looking so great. The king's army had us pinned down in the mountains, and defeat seemed inevitable. Then, of course, the Fallen arrived. I think there were eight or so in total. Three of them passed through my squad, but I only ever remember being close to one, a guy named Tom. Incidentally, one of the other people in that squad was Leon Calico." "Calico?" Martyn said, "Like the guy who rules this place?"

Neil solemnly nodded. "He was a different guy back then. We disagreed on a lot, but our shared desire for freedom kept us from killing eachother. Eventually, though, our disputes grew more intense, and we argued a lot about who would be doing what when we got rid of the king. Then, on the day we stormed the palace, Calico declared he had total control of the country, and it all went downhill from there. So many people I knew were killed in the purges that followed. In fact, he forced me to watch as he killed Tom himself. Of course, I tried to fight back, but Calico had swayed my comrades, and I was no match for all of them. I barely escaped with my life that day, and ever since then I've been roaming the land, taking bounties, and fighting against my former comrade's rule whenever I get the chance. They're the only things I really know how to do anymore".

Martyn sniffed, taking his rescuer's story in. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him, something about his friends. "Hey Neil," Martyn said, "You did mention it being possible for more than one Fallen to arrive here at once. Do you think my friends wound up here, too?" Neil put his hand to his chin, considering this. "Well," he said, "It's not entirely impossible. About half of all recorded Fallen arrivals involved more than one person. So it's not entirely unlikely. But if they are here in Roseland, they're in serious trouble. If the RAR already knows one Fallen is here, they'll be sure to look for others. And I doubt they all managed to run into someone like me. I suppose you should try and ask around Graenal when we get there, see if anyone saw people that looked like your friends". Martyn nodded. "Speaking of which, how far are we from the truck?"

Neil pointed down the road to an old, red truck parked across from them. "We're almost there." He said. The two crossed the road and approached the truck, and Martyn was finally able to get a good look at it. It had clearly been used for a long time, and had to be at least forty years old. Its original red paint job was still there, although it wasn't present in places where it the truck had rusted over, or been supplied with cannibalized parts. It had clearly seen its fair share of firefights and chases, with several bullet holes and dents covering it on all sides. Neil placed his hand on the truck's front end. "Well, here she is." He said, "She may have taken some punishment over the years, but she still runs fine".

Neil removed his jacket, throwing it onto the bed of the truck along with his rifle. "Got me through the civil war, too." He explained, "Used to drive around rebels in this thing". Martyn pulled at the passenger door, but it was still locked. His rescuer noticed this. "Here, let me get that." He said, producing a key from his pocket, and unlocking the front door. Climbing into the driver's seat, he reached over and unlocked Martyn's door. Martyn climbed in, buckling up, and looking over at Neil. He was sighing, looking down at the floor with his hands on the wheel, frowning slightly. "Hey, what's wrong?" Martyn asked.

"Nothing," Neil responded. "It's just… me and Tom drove all over the place in this car back in the war. I miss him so damn much. Seeing you sitting there, where he used to sit, you being a Fallen and all…" He sighed. "Well, it's hard to not get a little sentimental under the circumstances. I never thought in my life I'd run into, let alone get to know one of you, much less twice".

Martyn leaned back in his seat, taking this in. A long silence passed. "Well," He eventually said, "What matters now is that I'm here, and you've got a bit of a responsibility to protect me. Think of this as your second chance at keeping Tom alive". Neil smiled a little at this. "That's an odd way to put it, but somehow it makes sense" He turned to Martyn. "I promise you, I won't allow Calico, or any of his men, to so much as lay a finger on you. I can't afford to go through all that pain twice". Martyn stroked his chin, feeling a little emotional himself about this. "Well then," He managed to say, "I suppose we should get going. We're only giving him more time to catch up sitting around like this".

Neil nodded. "Very true. Let's not give him any less of a head start." Neil placed his key in the ignition, and started up the truck. It sputtered, wheezed, and revved to life, as Neil shifted into first gear. Martyn looked down the road from which they'd came as the truck pulled out from the side of the road, and the two started on their way to Graenal. As they pulled onto a main road, the Fallen watched as the signs for the town passed by to his side, the distances marked on them slowly shrinking as they approached their destination. Every now and then, this sight was interrupted with propaganda from either side of this conflict.

As they travelled, Martyn thought about a lot of things. He thought about his friends, and where they might have wound up, if they made it here at all. He thought about Neil, and everything he must have experienced over his life here. He thought about Calico, and what he might want from him. But most importantly, he thought about what dangerous adventures lay ahead for him. He'd found a good ally in Neil, and he was more than keen to help in the fight against Calico after what he'd seen of his troops, but his main priority was still to find his friends. He figured Neil would be a big help with that, even if it was dangerous for them to be seen together. But, although he didn't know it yet, when he got to Graenal, the Fallen was set to meet an individual with whom he would come to share an inseparable bond…

* * *

**Well, after almost half a decade on and off composing this idea in my head, it's finally beginning to take form! As long-winded as this might have been, I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Of course, Martyn's adventures in Roseland are just beginning. Chapter two should be coming sometime soon, with more to come after it assuming enough people are interested in it. In the meantime, feel free to leave your comments, reviews, even slide a few ideas by me if you want. No confirming they'll be implemented in the story, but I like to hear them. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a second chapter to work on.**


End file.
